


Election Night

by anatomical_heart, joshlymanwalkandtalk (Joshlymanwalkandtalk)



Category: Crooked Media RPF
Genre: Crooked Media Era, Election Night Fic, First Time, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Politics, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-26 04:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatomical_heart/pseuds/anatomical_heart, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joshlymanwalkandtalk/pseuds/joshlymanwalkandtalk
Summary: Election Night is such a liminal space, and this one is no different. It magnifies things inside. Hopes, fears, needs, desires. It makes a person face them because it's either a celebration, or because… well, fuck it. Go or don't. Everyone has these things under the surface and Lovett is no different.Night of the 2018 Midterm Elections.





	Election Night

**Author's Note:**

> Written as an amusing way to keep nerves at bay in the lead-up to the midterms that turned into more than just a sexy hookup.
> 
>  **As always:** Keep it secret, keep it safe. Please do not share this with or link this to anyone in the Crooked Media universe. Thank you.

They’re on their second break of the livestream when Lovett succumbs to all the beer he's washed the pizza down with and escapes to take a piss. The men’s room is empty and quiet and he gives a sigh of relief as the door closes behind him; it’s been hours since he’s had a minute to himself, and he's decided he’s going to take this one.

The day had been a flurry of hard work and corner-cutting in preparation for the Election Night livestream. They had all gone back and forth on whether or not to have a stream in the first place, and were even more hesitant to make it a big, all-night event. After dealing with the stress of the HBO shows, everyone felt exhausted. Between traveling, the rigid structure, and the go-go-go pace, there were some who thought an Election Night livestream was too much. But in the end, the point was raised that everything Crooked had done had been in pursuit of a Midterms win—flipping seats, winning seats they hadn’t dreamed they could win, and taking that gavel from Paul Ryan’s fucking hand. Everything they’d been working for as a company had been a build-up to November 6th, and marking it with a livestream felt like the least they could do for the countless Friends of the Pod who had canvassed, made calls, sent texts, gotten people registered, and just generally made getting up in the morning of Trump’s America bearable. And if they could all be together—all four of them, along with the people who made the office feel like a family—so be it. They’d make a night out of it.

The office put together a set that really reflected the mood at Crooked HQ that day, which could be classified as _trying-and-not-quite-succeeding at holding back anxiety_ ; Priyanka had called it _low-budget professional._ No one felt brave enough to plan any kind of celebration. There were no bottles of champagne, streamers, or celebratory poppers; no one wanted to tempt fate. After the 2016 Election Night livestream, there was the undeniable specter of it all happening again. Of not just being _wrong,_ but of losing. Badly. And getting people’s hopes up when they had no right to do any of it. 

They knew better. 

Things looked good throughout the day in a lot of key states (except Georgia, holy _fuck_ ) and… Lovett was really trying to stay positive. Chaos surrounded them, but things were going relatively well. Turnout was high. Maybe historically high. And, historically, that meant good news. But there had also never been a midterm election in Trump’s America throughout the nation’s history—anything could happen. The food everywhere and coolers full of beer helped ease an office full of nerves, either by smoothing rough edges or by quieting the urge to make things perfect as ballots were counted and returns started to come back.

Lovett was able to keep it together okay enough on camera, finally getting the feel of what the evening’s schtick was going to be, and interacting with all the guys made it easier. Having all four of them together over the last month had been fun. It’s not very often they can do it anymore, with Dan in San Francisco. Pod Tours America had been the only reason he saw Dan anymore. Live shows, sitting in comfortable-enough armchairs on a nice cut of carpet his grandmother wouldn’t be mad at in front of a theater full of fans. And tonight, it was another live event to bring him back. 

The studio was mostly-ready for them when the polls closed on the east coast, but it was set-up for the usual beginning-of-the-week pod stream: Their desk was made for three, with Dan hooked around the side. At first, Lovett had been indignant. What the fuck? All four of them were there, the space should be set-up accordingly, not treating Dan as some kind of afterthought. But when they all sat down to do a sound-check, Lovett realized the set-up actually made it… better? He could actually _see_ Dan, who flashed Lovett a wide grin, flicked his head, and said, “Oh, hey,” as though they hadn’t spent the whole afternoon hanging out in the Founders Office. 

So often, it felt like the majority of the time Lovett interacted with Dan was through a microphone, either in the studio without him, or facing out at the audience Lovett didn’t like to take his eyes off of while onstage. But tonight, Lovett was able to talk directly to Dan and see his reactions in real-time, which reminded him what it was like when they were in the White House. Dan was always a good one to look to for the read on a situation because his mind worked so quickly; it was nice not having to follow him by just the sound of his voice. 

Lovett wasn’t sure why the stream started when the east coast polls closed. “It’s gonna be four in the afternoon, we won’t know shit for hours,” he had said when it was brought up, but Jon and Tommy were adamant. Something-something it was symbolic or something. It made zero sense to Lovett, and at the rate people had started drinking that afternoon, he was concerned some of them might be well-past charmingly tipsy at the close of polls on the west coast. 

It’s after 6:00 in L.A. by the time Lovett sneaks into the bathroom furthest from the studio to pee. Results are starting to come in and he feels like his heart is in his throat as he looks at himself in the mirror.

This is it. Everything they’ve worked for. Everything Crooked stands for is going to be put to the test. Did they help start a movement? Did they really get people motivated enough to make a tangible difference? Or will tonight prove that they really are some coastal elite echo chamber, and the horrible, gerrymandered-to-hell congressional map means that it doesn’t matter how fired up people are? That they really are fucked because Republicans rigged the game while everyone else wasn’t looking?

The door suddenly swings open, snapping Lovett out of his anxious swirl of thoughts, and he sees Dan walk in with his head down. He looks up when he realizes he's not alone, and offers a small smile to Lovett. Something like, _Hey._

Lovett lathers his hands, chewing the corner of his mouth before turning on the faucet and blurting out what he's been wondering all night—the stone in the pit of his stomach. "What do you think’s gonna happen tonight?"

Dan looks up and Lovett catches his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, feeling his chest grow a little tighter, waiting for Dan to speak.

Letting out a sigh, Dan slips his hands into his pockets. "I'm worried," he says finally.

Lovett knows this: Dan's default setting is pessimism and to worry about everything. But he’s a realist, too, and Lovett needs that right now. He needs to hear someone talking with some goddamn sense. He rinses his hands quickly, eyes on the fixtures. "Why?”

Dan scoffs a bit. "Gerrymandering, voter suppression, roll purges, racist fear mongering… take your pick."

Lovett nods once, grateful for the reality check. His optimism had started giving way to doubt about an hour before the polls closed on the east coast. He had no numbers to back that feeling up, it was just a feeling. Like deja vu. "I’m worried, too." There’s a beat of silence between them. "Do you think we can pull it out,” he wonders, grabbing a couple of paper towels.

Dan looks down at the floor and takes a long minute to answer. Finally, he shakes his head, "Not the Senate. _But,_ " he stresses, "I think we’ve got the House. Some Governor's races. State assemblies. Local victories.” He’s quiet for a moment, then he says a little softer, “More than we've had in a long time."

"People have been coming out and working hard," Lovett offers, crumpling the paper towel in his hands. It’s a line they’ve all repeated on the pods, the HBO shows, and among themselves for weeks. Months. Right now, in the face of possible failure, it feels a little hollow, but he nonetheless keeps saying it on the chance it might prove true. 

“They have.” Dan nods and crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the sinks. He seems to get lost in thought for a moment before letting out another sigh. "We fell asleep on the job a long time ago." 

Lovett knows Dan means Democrats in general. _Voters,_ in general. But not everyone is a super voter, like Dan. Not everyone votes in every election. Not everyone understands what's at stake. And not everyone cares. 

"But maybe we can start turning things around,” Dan finishes, a hopeful half-smile on his face. 

Lovett offers his own small, lopsided grin.

They pause briefly, quiet in the wake of Dan’s expression of tentative optimism, before he asks, "Why’re you asking me?”

Lovett shrugs, tosses his paper towels into the garbage, and slips his hands into his back pockets. "Confirmation, I guess. That I’m not too far off-base?" He shifts his weight; he can't be still. "And, uh. I knew you wouldn't lie to me. Wouldn't pull any punches."

Dan shakes his head. "I wouldn't lie to you," he promises, and Lovett feels gratitude well up inside him again. 

It's not like Jon and Tommy are _lying_ as much as they’re _projecting._ They had to actualize victory by repeating the most hopeful, optimistic things at every possible turn; it’s like The Secret, but for politics. Not to mention both of their bad habits kept grating on his nerves—Jon checking polls every fifteen seconds and getting into twitter fights, and Tommy’s anger and disappointment making him yell at CNN coverage and stomp off for breathers. And with every swing of the needle to the left, they’d both swing back into Boston Bro-mode, laughing around the necks of their beers or mouthfuls of pizza. Lovett wishes they could find some kind of middle ground.

“Thanks,” Lovett murmurs warmly.

The corners of Dan’s mouth curl up in amusement. "I'm glad I continue to be trusted for honest political takes."

Lovett chuckles and feels a little bit more like himself again; if Dan’s joking, it’s all gonna be okay. Right? "They're good takes, Dan—you got a job here at Crooked for a reason. But don’t get too cocky: Know you can easily be replaced," he says down his nose, even if he has to point it up so high to meet Dan’s eyes.

Dan breaks into a wide grin. "Is that so? Has there been talk in the boardroom?"

"That's privileged founder knowledge," Lovett says evenly, but he's close to laughter. He walks to the door with a flourish. "We'll keep in touch."

Lovett can hear Dan call after him, "Hey—we need job security in this economy!" as he heads back toward the studio, a smile on his face the whole way. 

He grabs another beer from the cooler by the door and surveys the room, staying steadfastly off camera: Priyanka and Travis are busy mugging for Insta, which means he still has plenty of time before their next segment to put on an optimistic face. It's easier after talking to Dan.

***

Results are slow to come in, with many seats (including some of the more high-profile races) looking like they won’t be reported until morning at the earliest, so they decide to cut the stream short and report back with the post-mortem tomorrow. They take a nice group photo of their big little company squished together, everyone covered in pizza grease and full of beer bubbles. Everyone’s having so much fun and it’s still so early on the west coast that they keep the party going, celebrating victories as they’re called—some glued to phones and TV screens, while others take the opportunity to be more social.

It’s loud and warm everywhere he looks, so Lovett takes a second to step outside. He’s got a lightness to his steps that makes climbing the stairs to the roof more of a swim. He doesn’t want to leave yet. He knows he would dwell too hard on the losses, and everyone seems more than willing to hang-out well into the night; he’s glad he’s not alone. He’s tired, but the impromptu dance party he saw happening in one of the offices reminds him of the House win and all the new seats they picked up. And, he has to admit: An openly-gay governor is pretty fucking great. 

Lovett’s still thinking about all the polls that haven’t closed yet when Spencer texts him. 

_Done so soon? You guys were on-screen for maybe an hour. MAYBE. What happened to Election Night coverage?_

Lovett scoffs. He’s typing a rebuttal when the door opens and Dan walks out to join him. "Any changes," Lovett calls over as soon as he sees him.

"I just saw you. ‘Too close to call’ is still too close to call."

Lovett flashes his teeth in a caught kind of smile before finishing his text message and pressing send. “I’m trusting you to tell me, Daniel. Don’t hold out on me.”

"I wouldn’t. And I stand by my previous analysis," Dan says, coming over to join Lovett, leaning forward against the railing next to him.

Lovett slips his phone back into his pocket and puts his elbows up on the railing. It’s grounding. And it's quiet between them for a beat.

“I had to get out of there for a minute,” Dan confesses, taking a swallow of his beer and looking out into the night. “Take it all in.” 

Lovett can’t help but get caught up in looking at Dan. Seeing him in profile like this, in a navy Henley and in the glow of the city, he looks _so_ good. His gaze keeps flicking down from the horizon to the beer in his hand, allowing Lovett’s eyes to trace the lines of his face; Lovett's chest feels tight as he says, “Yeah, me too.”

Election Night is such a liminal space, and this one is no different. It magnifies things inside. Hopes, fears, needs, desires. It makes a person face them because it's either a celebration or because… well, fuck it. Go or don't. Everyone has these things under the surface and Lovett is no different.

“Do you think it’s enough? To stop all the bullshit?” He doesn’t mean to say it, but maybe the beer has loosened him up more than he thought. 

Dan lets out a small breath. “We’re out of the prediction business, remember?”

Lovett shakes his head as a small smile tugs on the corners of his mouth. He won’t point out the fact that Dan literally given him a prediction in the bathroom just a couple hours ago. Instead, he moves a little closer, sliding a little further along the railing to nudge at Dan’s arm. “All right, then. What’s making you excited?” 

"It's still early, but it’s looking bad for Dirty Dean,” Dan says with a widening grin.

Lovett grimaces, but with a smile still behind it. " _God,_ don't use that name, it sounds wrong when you say it. _Raunchy._ "

"'Raunchy'? Oh, fuck, how embarrassing." Dan laughs. "I had no idea."

"It's in my head for a week whenever I hear you say it."

Dan tilts his head to the side a bit, looking at him curiously. Teasing a little. "That right?"

Lovett shrugs, "There's just so many _better_ things you could say using that voice." It takes a moment for him to realize what he's said, and a flush starts to creep its way up the back of his neck.

Dan keeps his eyes fixed right on Lovett, dark and alluring. "That right?" It's not so much a question anymore, as much as it sounds like interest at Lovett’s insinuation.

Lovett is suddenly flustered, breath catching in his chest at Dan’s words, paired with the weight and heat behind Dan’s gaze. He licks his lips and tries to get his bearings. “So. What’re you doing after this?” 

It ends up sounding like a bit of a come-on. And maybe it is a bit of a come-on. Then again, maybe it’s kind of a joke. But it’s also kind of not. How does Dan relax after something like this? He doubts just watching a bit of basketball is something that’d help him through a night like tonight.

Dan looks down at Lovett. Lovett waggles his eyebrows and Dan laughs again. Something that reaches up into his eyes and something that makes Lovett feel warm.

"Depends. What are _you_ doing?" Dan's voice is smoother and deeper than he's ever heard it. That voice has never been pointed at him, just used for jokes that didn’t deserve it; it sounds even better like this.

Lovett looks back out into the dark. He feels his face going a little hot and he likes it, even if he needs a second. “Not too sure. I need to relax. Got any ideas?”

Lovett watches as Dan angles his body toward him and steps closer. He feels the warmth inside him grow, smoldering and localized in his gut. 

It’s subtle, but Dan’s eyes drop to Lovett’s knees and then travel up the length of him, until they meet his again. “Sure,” he says. “Plenty.”

That sounds... _a lot_ like Dan is interested in something that Lovett would be interested in giving him. If he weren’t straight. And he were actually interested. 

Lovett chuckles at the innuendo, still feeling warm all over. “He looks like Dan, but he doesn’t sound like Dan,” Lovett murmurs. 

Dan blushes as he leans in a little. There’s a fluidity to his movements that speak to how freely the beer has been flowing, but his eyes are clear. “What are we doing?”

Lovett decides to tell the truth. “We're flirting. Or, at least... I am.” He's testing. He wants to be sure any drunk goggles aren't making him see potential pleasure where there's actually potential business fallout. "What are _you_ doing?"

Dan grins wide, mouth open and teeth flashing. "I think I am too." 

Lovett cocks his head to the side and licks his lips. What an interesting development. Election Night really _does_ reveal all things.

Dan pulls back slightly, and for a moment, he looks like Lovett’s old friend again. “You really wanna do this?”

Lovett feels a spark. Wants to reel Dan in. Pin him down. Figure out what this is. “Yeah,” Lovett says, with all the confidence of someone who looked impending doom in the face and impending doom was the one to blink first; he wants to grab hold of whatever life has to offer him. “I really do.”

“All right,” Dan says, like it’s final. He leans down to set his mostly-empty beer bottle next to the railing, and steps closer, making the space between them vanish. “I’m thinking...”

“Mm-hmm,” Lovett hums, encouraging him. He can feel it, when the air shifts between them, the way attraction usually does, and he reaches out to hook his fingers through Dan’s belt loops and pull him closer. 

Dan takes this in stride and reaches up to settle a hand on the curve of Lovett’s hip, his thumb seeking out the sharp jut of his pelvis. “I have a hotel room just a Lyft away."

Lovett smirks. “Following you so far.”

Dan lets out a breathy laugh, but continues. “And... I think I’d like to see what you’ve got underneath this sweater.”

Lovett bursts out with a punch of a laugh. When he quiets down, he searches Dan's face again. It's like he looks different every time he sees him, but maybe he’s just noticing details he didn't know were there, details he may not have seen until—

“I'm serious," Dan murmurs as he leans down; Lovett’s breath stutters to a halt as Dan stops just about an inch away from his ear. “S’been driving me crazy since you wore it at the Irvine show.”

Lovett can smell the beer on Dan's breath and it's heady. "You've been thinking about my sweater since Irvine?"

"Mostly you underneath it," he says, his eyes going even darker.

"Is this the first time my sweater has come up for you? Or is this something I should've known about sooner?" 

Dan stays quiet, doesn’t respond right away, and Lovett wonders what he's gonna say. Is this new? Is this long held? Is—

Suddenly, Dan's kissing him.

Dan is _kissing_ him. 

Until he isn't. 

Dan pulls back to look at Lovett, and Lovett tries to be an open book to read, but he's never been good at silence. "...wow?" He sounds like an idiot. So much for flirting.

Dan doesn't seem to mind. He actually seems pleased. He crowds into Lovett’s space until he’s backed against the wall of the stairwell. The brick is rough, and it starts pilling the back of his sweater.

"If you like this sweater so much," Lovett says, his voice hushed, "Maybe the brick wall isn't the best place to do this."

Dan smirks and kisses Lovett again, leaning down to meet him where he is. Lovett lets go and lets it happen. Kisses back. Dan’s hands are big and warm on his hips and he’s anxious for Dan to tease under the hem of his sweater, right fucking here on the roof of their office building. And entertaining the very thought of it means Lovett doesn't care so much about his sweater getting ruined anymore.

The kiss itself is surprising. Firm, like Dan really means it. Confident. But then again, Dan’s confidence is always evident. Maybe what’s surprising, then, is how confident he is in how much he wants this, too. His lips are soft, tinged with the lingering taste of hops that sends a thrill right through Lovett and he finds himself leaning in eagerly, wanting more. Greedy for every second of it.

He feels Dan starting to deepen the kiss, and the reality of the moment begins to dawn on him quickly.

"Wait," Lovett mumbles against Dan's lips, pulling back until his head rests against the brick of the wall.

Dan's brows knit together and he's breathing a little hard, which Lovett is proud of.

"Should we...?” He takes a fortifying, heavy breath of his own, which helps him clear his head and focus on what he wants. “Yeah,” Lovett says, decisive. “We should get out of here so we..."

Dan leans in to kiss the hinge of Lovett's jaw, like once they’ve started this they can’t very well just stop.

" _Hah,_ " Lovett breathes, before starting to giggle. " _Work_ with me here, Pfeiffer. You wanna see what's under this sweater? Well, I'm not showing you on the roof of our office building." He then pulls Dan down to lick across his top lip. "Order that Lyft and let's get the hell out of here."

Dan gets this grin on his face that makes him look years younger; it's actually offensive how fucking charming it is. "Yeah?"

Lovett rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but smooths his hands up Dan's chest, feeling his pecs beneath, a little light-headed at the turn of the night's events. Between the potentially dire outcome, the booze, and the demands of his body, he's struggling to keep it together. "If my choice is between watching Wolf Blitzer announce election results and—"

Dan lifts his eyebrows with a wicked smile on his face. Almost like he's saying, _Please finish that sentence._

"—figuring out whatever this is... I've made my decision for the night."

Dan surges forward to kiss Lovett again with earnest excitement and Lovett forgets what he was saying in order to wrap his arms around Dan's neck and bring their bodies closer. Lovett’s getting hard, but Dan hasn't felt it yet. And, frankly, they don’t need _that_ to make it more difficult to leave, no matter how good it feels and no matter how much he wants to rub off on Dan's thigh right the fuck now.

But the car. The Lyft. The _hotel—_

"Wait," Lovett gasps when he can disconnect. “We're getting distracted again.” Lovett doesn’t want to pull away from Dan, but he does for the greater good. The good that happens to be in a hotel room somewhere in the heart of the city. He smooths his hands across Dan’s chest, and says, determinedly, "Phone, car, hotel. I believe in us."

Dan kisses the corner of his mouth before leaning his forehead against Lovett’s. “Okay. You’re right.” He pulls away, and he's flushed from his throat to the tips of his ears. His mouth is slick and red from kissing. But he looks... happy. Excited. A little devious. Nothing like the Dan he sought solace from in the bathroom just a few hours ago, whose face had been hardened and tense—bracing himself against the onslaught of Election Night.

Lovett watches as Dan pulls out his phone and he can feel himself want to follow him as he steps away to get them a Lyft. 

_Holy shit. Should we... tell people we're leaving? Yeah. That's a thing that should probably happen._ The livestream might be over, but it'd be shitty to leave without at least a perfunctory goodbye. And to arrange for some reliable dog-care.

"I'll be right back," he says, peeling himself off the wall. 

When Dan looks up at him, eyebrows lifting in interest, Lovett hooks a thumb over his shoulder. 

"I’m just gonna go give our farewells. I'll make it quick."

"Should I...?"

"Don't worry about it."

Lovett takes the stairs quickly and weaves his way back inside, looking for the most important familiar faces. He finds them in the Founders Office. 

Jon’s chewing the side of his thumb, eyes flicking between his phone and the TV, standing in the middle of the room, totally zoned. Tommy’s on the couch, holding Lucca with one hand and scrolling through his phone with the other. Mukta, Priyanka, and Elijah are sitting together in a cluster, their conversation an acute triangle of hope, joy, and sarcasm. 

"Hey, Jon," Lovett says, brushing a knuckle against his arm. "I'm gonna get outta here."

Jon's face crumples into confusion and turns his attention to him, like he hasn't acknowledged anything other than numbers for too long. "What? Where are you going?"

"I, uh…” Lovett would rather not answer. He just wants to bolt out the door and explain nothing. He’s so close. _Dan, Dan, Dan._ Thinking quickly, he blurts out, "Dan's not doing so hot. Had too much to drink."

"I just _saw_ him," Jon drawls, visibly trying to get his head straight. Lovett knows he's had a few mixed drinks in addition to the beers he started in on early. 

Jon looks down at his phone and shrugs, "Well, he seemed fine before." His attention is already slipping. Lovett is not a county or a percentage of voters, so Jon doesn't have enough care left for him after a moment.

Lovett is trying so hard to focus, afraid he's going to give away the game, a game no one would expect or could even fathom. "Yeah, he's not great. Can you take Pundit home with you? We're getting a Lyft," Lovett says, slipping away, eyes darting around as if everyone knows that he was just making out with his assumed-straight co-host, sort-of employee, and past-superior on the roof as the country hung in the balance for the second time in two years. And that he's also hiding the beginnings of a hard-on.

"Okay, sounds good," Jon says, distantly. And as soon as he says, "Tom—what's the AP saying about Arizona?" Lovett knows that he's home free.

He backs out of their office and heads down the stairs and out of the building where Dan's waiting for him at the mouth of the parking lot.

When Dan catches sight of Lovett, a relieved smile comes onto his face. "The guy's five minutes away."

"Great," Lovett says too quickly, wanting more of the touching thing to happen but not sure if he wants to start that again here, now, with the potential for anyone to see them.

"And how did that...?"

"Piece of cake," Lovett assures him. "No problem."

And now. Silence. The lull before, well, whatever this is.

They're standing next to each other, facing the street, phones in hands, but Lovett is definitely not reading any words. His stomach is full of butterflies and he feels like he's gonna burst. "I thought you were straight."

Well. That's one way to release the pressure. 

He can see Dan lift his head as he takes his eyes off his phone and turn to look at him.

Lovett can't bare to look back at him yet. Except to peek from the corner of his eye. Just a peek.

Dan’s still watching him steadily and catches him easily.

Damn it.

"I'm..." Dan starts and pauses. He's not as drunk as Lovett told Jon he was, not by a long shot, but he's got a relaxed sway to his stance. "Not." 

It’s anticlimactic for such a radical shift in personal understanding. But then again—is it still that big of a shift if Lovett’s already made out with him and they're waiting for the transportation to get them to where they plan to fuck? Or, at least, he thinks. Hopes. They're going to a hotel room... they're totally gonna fuck, right?

"Do you have a different word you'd describe yourself with? Something?"

"’Bisexual,’ I guess," Dan shrugs.

"You _guess?_ " Lovett’s butterflies are taking a backseat to the sparks in his head.

"I mean, I guess that’s what you might call it because… I am."

"And somehow it's just never come up," Lovett deadpans. It's not a question.

"I'm a private person."

"Even with your friends?"

"It's on a need-to-know basis."

"I've known you for ten years," he shouts before he reels himself in.

"And obviously now you need to know," Dan says with a smile.

Lovett narrows his eyes and points at Dan. "Remind me, when we're done—" 

Dan lifts his brows in expectation and amusement. 

"That I have questions.”

“‘Questions,’” Dan echoes.

“Yes, questions. Multi-part questions that require on-the-record remarks. Son of a bitch.”

Dan laughs and looks past him down the street. It’s infuriating, and it makes Lovett want to shout after him, _This is no laughing matter!_ But he doesn't, because Dan's turning back to him and saying, "So in all those years, is this the first time you've—"

"What? Wanted to make a move on you? Dan, I've been flirting with you for a decade."

"But you do that with everyone. It's not the same."

"How? How is it not the same?"

"Because you thought I was straight. You thought it wasn't going to go anywhere."

Lovett blinks and blushes and looks away. Okay. Maybe he has a small point. He shakes his head and looks back at Dan.

"Am I wrong?"

Licking his lips, Lovett moves a little closer. "No. That's right." He bites the inside of his cheek. "I've maybe... had a recurring thing about you for a little while."

"How long is a little while?"

Lovett feels like he’s getting backed against the wall and shrugs well up to his ears. "I don't know? You're a good-looking guy!" Lovett realizes his voice is raised, but he's having a hard time taking it down a notch; nothing about this night can easily have its notch taken-down. "You're smart and funny and... California looks good on you! What do you want from me?"

Dan leans in close to murmur against Lovett’s ear, "Anything you'll let me have." 

Lovett's eyes instantly roll back and his blood drains so far from his head he gets dizzy. 

If someone were to look, no one would see anything other than one friend whispering to another. They wouldn’t be able to register how deep and _hot_ Dan's voice is in this moment.

"Jesus," Lovett whispers, helpless. He has to grab hold of Dan's shirt to steady himself, and he can feel one of Dan's arms go around his waist, easy as anything.

Dan's phone dings in his pocket just as a car with a purple dashboard rolls up. 

"C'mon," Dan says after a moment. "Let's go while we still can."

The driver has the radio on when he greets them. He doesn't try to talk beyond that, which is a blessing. 

They're pressed close together in the backseat, closer than they need to be, and Lovett's thankful for the contact. He craves more of it, so he lays his sweaty hand on Dan's thigh; it's allowed, if not welcomed.

"I can't believe this," Lovett says, shaking his head. His vision swims less, but he's still feeling all the alcohol he stuffed into his mouth while polls closed and results started coming in.

"What?"

Lovett turns to Dan on a dime with wide eyes. "That _you and I_ are in the back of a Lyft on the way to your hotel room the night the world almost-definitely ended." He can hear his voice pitched up and takes a deep breath.

"The world didn’t almost end," Dan chides and Lovett heaves a heavy sigh.

Dan reaches out and settles a palm on the inside of Lovett's thigh. Not up too high, just... mirroring. 

Lovett swallows hard and slow, looking at how big Dan's hand is in comparison to his. It makes him feel short of breath.

"You keep getting hung up on labels… what I use… who I tell," Dan continues, the weight of his hand underscoring the seriousness of what they’re doing. He leans closer, so only Lovett can hear. "Isn't it enough to know that I want you?"

Lovett's heart skips a beat at those words. He can't control his expression, so he bites at his top lip, rolling it anxiously between his teeth. He can still taste Dan's beer. It’s the one thing that’s remained unchanged since they stood together on the roof of their building. It’s been Lovett’s anchor, keeping him steady throughout the rapidly-shifting waters of who he thought Dan was. It feels important. Something not to ignore. Lovett knows A Moment when it presents itself, and this is A Moment. 

_Isn’t it enough to know that I want you?_

It hangs in the air between them in the otherwise quiet car, but Lovett's still trying to find his words. He needs a redo; he wants to be ready for it this time. "Can... you say that again?"

"What? That I want you?" 

Nope. Still not ready. It was silly to think he would be. _Could_ be. The words echo inside his head and he knows he'll be hearing them for at least a week. Maybe longer, this time. 

Dan _wants him._

_Jesus._

Lovett takes a deep breath and carefully exhales. When he can speak again, Lovett leans slightly forward to ask the driver, "What's our ETA?" 

The man looks down at his phone as they stop at a light. "About 10 minutes." 

They roll into traffic again and Lovett squeezes Dan's thigh under his hand when he settles back against the seat. "You said you’ve been wanting to fuck my sweater since the show—"

"Uh, that’s not—"

"—so how long have _you_ been thinking about this?"

"You mean how long have I been thinking about _you?_ "

Lovett blinks up at him, brows lifting. Waiting.

Dan shrugs. "Since _Keepin' It 1600._ "

"You're kidding."

"I'm not."

Lovett looks around inside the car, almost as though he’s looking for help, not quite able to comprehend. "What... is happening." 

There’s a heavy silence that falls between them again as his eyes follow the parade of darkened storefronts, getting lost in the rhythm of being pulled toward uncharted waters.

"Do you remember when you and Jon came up to San Francisco that one weekend before you or Tommy were on the pod?"

"Uh, vaguely?”

Dan lifts his brows expectantly.

It clicks, and Lovett feels his face go warm. "Are you serious?" 

Dan gives a soft smile, before shaking his head fondly and looking out the window. "You made a joke. Some insinuation. Like... you knew how to take it, or something. It was off-hand. You've said so much worse. In the White House, no less."

"But that's what did it for you?"

Dan turns his attention back to Lovett and shrugs a single shoulder. "California looks good on you, too."

***

They stand in front of the hotel elevator, looking up at the slow countdown to the lobby.

Lovett’s skin is humming with electricity. He still can’t fucking believe it. He looks over to Dan, who looks back over to him, and they share a warm, but nervous smile. The elevator dings and the doors open to reveal an empty cab. 

Dan gestures for Lovett to go first. The silent _After you,_ stretching between them.

Lovett rolls his eyes, blushing. As he walks past him, Lovett gently pats Dan on the cheek. "What a nice boy,” he says with a silly grin, sounding not unlike his bubbe, leaving Dan to follow.

Dan trails close behind, and as the doors slide shut behind them, he steps up into Lovett's personal space. But he doesn't touch him yet—he just looks, taking all of Lovett in.

Lovett bites his bottom lip in a flirtatious way, but also in a way that happens when he's dazzled and trying to stay one step ahead. "Promise to have me home before curfew?"

Dan chuckles and licks his lips. 

Lovett wants to be inside Dan's head. He wants to know where this is going, where it came from, and what exactly Dan sees in him. He notes that Dan's eyes are getting dark, so he can fill in a couple of blanks. 

Lovett reaches out a tentative finger and hooks it into the waistband of Dan's pants, right above the button of his fly; Dan moves closer even easier than expected. So Lovett mirrors the motion with his other hand, slipping his fingers in next to each other. 

Dan leans over Lovett, pinning him to the wall with the hunger in his gaze. 

Lovett lets out a small gasp as Dan reaches up to cup his face with one hand and trail his thumb along Lovett's bottom lip. It's a smooth movement that makes Lovett think it's not the first time he's thought about doing it, and it makes him shiver.

"What do you want out of this?" Dan's voice is still that low tenor Lovett's not used to hearing.

Lovett takes a deep breath. He never noticed how light and bright blue Dan’s eyes were until he got up close and they went dark. What's going _on_ in there? "I, uh..." Lovett stutters, then he lets out an amused, embarrassed rush of air as Dan's thumb trails down his chin, and continues lower to caress his throat. "What do _you_ want out of this?"

Dan pulls their hips together, pressing Lovett tight between his chest and the cool glass of the mirror behind them. His movements are slow, like he’s trying to meet Lovett where he is. But then he says, "I wanna make you come," bringing his mouth closer to Lovett's. "We can figure the rest out later.”

Lovett makes an undignified sound, trapped at the back of his throat and released into the small sliver of space between their lips. _Fuck._ What the fuck is he supposed to say that?

Nothing. He says nothing because he leans in and claims Dan's mouth with his own instead, wanting _more_ of everything that's happening. Wanting to know this man he thought he knew.

The stop of the elevator sends a jolt through them. They part and both face the door, rumpled and fooling no one. Luckily, no one is there waiting to catch them; even the carpet breathes a sigh of relief.

Lovett looks over at Dan. Dan looks back, nods his head to the left, and leads the way.

Lovett spends most of the hallway trying to catch up to Dan and by the time he does, the keycard's already gotten the green light.

Dan holds the door open for him and closes it behind them. It's dark and they stumble easily in the closet-bathroom area until Lovett finally flips the light switch. The small desk lamp in the corner of the room turns on, casting everything in low light. 

He reaches down and he takes one of Dan's hands between both of his and pulls him toward the king-size bed—neatly made from that day's housekeeping. When the backs of Lovett’s thighs hit the side of the bed, Lovett lets out a nervous breath and reaches down to touch the bottom hem of his sweater. "Well. It'd be rude to keep you in suspense much longer..."

"Wait," Dan says.

Lovett feels his chest go tight, and he realizes this is the thing he's been waiting for this entire time. Not like Dan would suddenly _remember_ he was straight or something, but that this was too good to be true. That it wasn't really real.

But that feeling doesn't last long at all: Dan reaches behind himself to the wall and flips the switch to turn on the two lamps on either side of the bed. It's not too bright—the light is still soft—but Lovett can see everything now. And, god, Dan's eyes are so blue.

Dan nods as soon as he turns back toward Lovett, "I want to be able to see you. All of you."

Lovett's body goes hot and he knows he's just gone red all over. Perfect. He gives a breathy chuckle, but continues, pulling the soft fabric of the sweater over his head. He tosses the it onto the floor and Dan smiles so wide that it curls all the way up to his eyes. Lovett's skin tingles in the cool air and under the way Dan's gaze sweeps over him.

"You look so good," Dan sighs in a way that makes Lovett realize he can’t joke any of this off. He wants to hide behind a laugh, feeling naked without that comfortable default, but... he loves Dan's earnest attraction. It makes him want to share more, to let everything unfold the way the entire night has: Effortlessly. Easily.

"Can I...?" Dan asks, and Lovett's nodding before he even fully realizes what Dan wants.

Dan steps forward and presses both hands to Lovett's stomach, which jumps a little under Dan's warm touch. But then he smooths his hands up Lovett's abdomen and chest and Dan takes his first liberty by swiping his thumbs delicately across Lovett's nipples.

Lovett sucks in an unsteady breath through his teeth. "Fuck," he whispers.

Dan trails his hands back down, and once they’re at his waist, Lovett can feel the softness of Dan's Henley on his chest. Lovett pushes his hands underneath it, suddenly needing to know what Dan feels like, too. Needing to get rid of the thin layer of fabric still separating them.

Dan nods, and Lovett doesn't hesitate anymore—he slides his hands up, up, up until the material bunches against his wrists. Dan grins once the shirt is hiked up to his clavicles, and Lovett mutters, low in his throat, "Take it off."

Dan wastes no time in pulling it over his head and throws it toward the pile of Lovett’s clothes. 

Dan has been _hiding_. He’s even hotter than Lovett’s imagined. His chest is broad, covered in dark brown hair. He looks just the right mix of soft and firm and Lovett reaches out to see for himself. Dan's eyes flutter closed as Lovett's fingers card through his chest hair.

"Look at you," Lovett says, a mixture of awe-struck and indignant, "Been holding out on me, Pfeiffer."

Dan's eyes slit open and he smirks, before reaching out to start unbuttoning Lovett's pants.

Lovett stops breathing. Every fumble of Dan's fingers sends friction to too many of the right places and it feels like he’s shaking. He drags Dan’s face down to kiss him hard with a hot hand on the back of his neck.

Dan takes Lovett’s face in both hands and licks into his mouth like it's everything he's been wanting to do. It leaves Lovett gasping, and he’s not sure how much longer he can stay standing before his knees begin to buckle. Where just a moment ago they were going slow, full of curiosity, they're now hurtling toward the next moment impatiently, trying to experience everything all at once.

Dan bends Lovett back toward the bed until Lovett's balance hovers just shy of falling back. He wants so badly to pull Dan with him, but he waits. Tries to convince himself this is fine—Dan's mouth on his, the frantic energy between them. He can stick to this for a while.

Dan's breathing heavily so that when Lovett breaks the kiss he's panting into his face. "I wanna see the rest of you.”

Lovett feels weak at Dan's growling voice. He's fairly certain he'd do anything Dan wanted him to, as long as he said it in that voice. Point of fact, Lovett's pretty sure he's willing to _beg_ for whatever it is Dan's got in store for him. And he needs Dan to keep looking at him like he is. Like he kept count of every time Lovett teased him, said something wildly inappropriate, or flirted with him, and has held it against him in order to seek revenge. 

Finally, Lovett can’t keep himself standing anymore: He sits down on the edge of the bed and lies back, lifting his arms over his head, putting himself on display for Dan.

Dan wastes no time in pulling Lovett's pants down his legs. His underwear gets caught on his cock, hard and happy to be released, which makes him gasp. And it’s only then that he realizes he still has his shoes on. He kicks them off and wiggles the rest of the way out of his pants, the small sensation of Dan's knuckles against his thighs and calves driving him wild. 

Lovett’s back arches as Dan looks down at him, and he closes his eyes. “God, do it. _Please._ Touch me. Wanna...” he swallows, fingers curling in to ball his hands into fists, still keeping his arms above his head, “Want you to.”

Dan grins and it feels like an electric jolt down Lovett's spine. He steps back from the bed and Lovett feels something in his chest follow. _Not away_ , it says. _Come back._ But then Dan bends to kneel between Lovett's spread legs.

“Oh, shit,” Lovett breathes. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit.” He wants so badly to let his body relax, but he can’t pull his eyes away for anything. Dan’s breath is hot against the soft skin of his thighs and his cock, which is rock hard and weeping. “Dan...”

Dan’s palms skate up Lovett’s knees until they settle on his hips. He feels Dan put pressure on them, like a warning. _These stay here._ And Lovett is so deep in shock and arousal that he'll do whatever Dan's hands tell him to. 

Dan kisses up the inside of Lovett's thigh until he's at the seam at the top, where leg meets body. He looks unshakable with his lust as he wraps a firm hand around Lovett’s cock, and Lovett feels like just Dan's breath is too much. Every feeling is super-sized, like it can’t all fit inside his skin. 

Dan looks him in the eye when he guides Lovett's cock to his mouth, just to lick at first and then to wrap his lips around the head. 

Lovett sees white. There are no words. That is, until Dan fits more of Lovett into his mouth, slowly engulfing him in heat. 

Where is he and how did this happen?

Dan pulls off of him for a second and he thinks he might legitimately scream. He takes a deep, raggedly aggrieved breath in before Dan licks a hot stripe from base to tip, and he collapses back onto the bed. "What the _fuck_ , Dan," Lovett moans as Dan takes him deeper.

“I've got you,” Dan murmurs, then licks the underside of the head. “Fuck, you taste so good.”

Lovett can't focus on much more than the ceiling as his hands cradle Dan's head, fighting back from pushing him down further, all the way down. " _Jesus_ ," Lovett whimpers as Dan takes him deeper.

Dan starts to swallow around Lovett, and his back accordions helplessly, his whole body jerking with the movement. All the air is punched out of his lungs and the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle is tension. 

" _Nnng_ —" it's such a vulnerable, wrung-out sound and Lovett starts panting. "God, I'm gonna come. This—fuck," he mutters, "Not yet, I don't wanna. _Fuck._ "

Dan pulls off with a sloppy pop, replacing his mouth with a tight hand around the base of him. 

Lovett relaxes his back, taking a couple deep breaths. "How," he sighs. It's supposed to be a question, but he's not concerned with that now. He's not concerned with much. He's barely holding on—so totally ready to float away like a balloon. He curls up to look down at Dan.

Dan’s got a wet, pink smile plastered across his face, eyes half-lidded.

Lovett sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and he has to close his eyes and try to control his breathing so he can catch himself again; he’s still too close. 

Dan tugs nice and slow on his dick and he leans in to kiss and suckle at the tender skin of Lovett's inner thigh. Skin that hasn't seen the sun in years—pale and soft.

Lovett drops back onto the bed and warbles another moan. "Oh, fuck, yes." His fingers tangle in the sheets until his knuckles are white.

"Thought about you like this," Dan says into his skin and takes another moment to nibble a spot until it's red. “So fucking good.”

Lovett's in a haze, but he's trying. Again, he pulls himself up to see Dan's face. 

Dan smiles at him from behind his thigh. He keeps eye contact as he opens his mouth and takes Lovett down again.

Lovett’s voice is so loud in his own ears, he can only imagine what the people next door can hear. He’s starting to feel a little hysterical. "You're gonna swallow, right? Do you swallow? You—” he laughs up at the ceiling as Dan pulls off again. "You better be ready. Been ready, years... 'cause, shit," he shivers, "This won't take long. Fuck, your _mouth._ "

Dan rumbles a growl up at him from the back of his throat, and another jolt goes through Lovett's body when Dan leans in and _bites_ his inner thigh.

Lovett yelps not in pain so much as utter surprise. To say he wasn’t expecting it would be an understatement. But, fuck it, the whole night has taken him out at the knees. He’ll never expect anything out of anyone again if Dan will just _please_ make him come. Lovett whimpers and reaches for Dan. He needs Dan’s mouth back on his dick _now._ “Dan, please....”

Dan lets the skin go and soothes it with a wide, flat tongue. "God, it's so hot hearing you beg," Dan says propping himself back up, elbows on Lovett's thighs.

Lovett groans and throws his head back, "I'm not—" his voice catches in his dry throat, "— _begging_." He shakes his head on the mattress. "I'm asking nicely—"

Dan's back on his cock without bothering to reply.

In that moment, Lovett's brain turns to dust which settles in the back of his skull. He's beyond sensation: The only thing happening in the world is Dan's mouth, tight around Lovett's dick, sucking and swirling his tongue, taking Lovett just a _little_ too far but not giving up. 

Lovett's unraveling faster than he can stop. His body is a runaway train and all he can do is hitch a ride and see where it goes. Except he knows exactly where he's headed, but it's still thrilling to watch.

Dan pulls off of him again, and it's the most exciting, frustrating tease he's had in years. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ It's making a mess of his insides, and he's whining, completely helpless under whatever Dan's done to him, whatever spell he's worked on Lovett. He just needs _more_. He needs to come. He needs it so fucking bad.

"I want you to come for me," Dan says, almost thoughtfully when he pulls off again. This time, he leans over to kiss the bite mark on Lovett's thigh, while his fingers quest back toward Lovett's hole. "Okay?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Lovett whisper-chants. "Please." 

Time melts as the tip of Dan's finger slips inside and Lovett rolls his hips to get it deeper. He's gasping for air until Dan brings his other hand up to guide Lovett's cock back into his mouth, sucking hard as he rumbles with a tight-lipped groan. 

It's so much and so good. And then Dan's moving in and out, deeper and deeper. Electricity sparks behind his eyelids.

"Fuck, _Dan!_ " Lovett cries out, loud and watery, as he comes. His knuckles ache with how tightly they're compressed from all the effort to stop himself from choking Dan with his dick. Lovett feels Dan moan and his back arches almost-painfully, trapping Dan between his thighs.

Lovett's breath comes in hot, shallow puffs and his eyes droop closed as a wave of exhaustion washes over him. When he's spent, his grip on Dan's head goes slack and he's left caressing the top of Dan’s head, curve of his skull, the tips of his ears—wherever he can touch. "Dan..."

Lovett's twitching and coming down gently when Dan pulls off of his cock for the last time. He slips from Lovett’s fingers and gets up off the floor, suddenly standing high over him, and Lovett can’t help but look up. Dan's mouth is shiny and when he licks his lips, Lovett shivers. 

“...wow,” Lovett sighs, tilting his head to the side, but keeping eye contact with Dan. “I didn’t know you at all, did I?”

“You knew enough,” Dan says, reaching for his fly. “Just not everything.”

“I didn’t realize I had to apply for security clearance,” Lovett quips, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. But he lifts his head enough so he can watch Dan free himself from his khakis. “I wanna see,” Lovett murmurs. His legs are still shaking, but he presses his luck: “Wanna see if it’s as good as I’ve imagined.”

Dan lets out an incredulous puff of air. And then he gets this _look_ on his face that makes the hair on the back of Lovett’s neck stand on end. Dan’s hands have no trace of tremble as he unbuttons and unzips his pants and slips his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of his underwear so he can pull out his dick.

“Holy shit.” 

Dan's standing there, cock in hand, underwear straining against his balls, pants falling halfway down his thighs. Lovett isn’t drunk enough for his vision to swim like it is, but… maybe he came too hard. Honestly, he wishes he'd waited—they’d waited. He wishes he could’ve got his hands on Dan’s cock first because he feels so useless now. It’s… well, it’s big. Thick. Obscene. Lovett wants to take his _time_ with it and he can barely keep his eyes open or form a coherent sentence. What the fuck.

"You look so good," Dan says, stroking himself slow from root to tip. Once. Twice. He inhales strong and deep, but when he exhales, it's shaky.

Lovett can see Dan's stomach flutter when he takes a second to look away from Dan’s cock. Arousal and pride are written all over Dan's face.

Lovett gets his elbows underneath him and struggles to sit up a bit. “Get over here,” he rasps, toes curling. His mouth is fucking watering and he wants to feel the heft of Dan’s cock for himself, wants to feel the thrust of it into his mouth.

But Dan doesn’t move. Instead, Dan licks his palm and reaches down to continue stroking himself, a smug grin on his lips.

“You asshole,” Lovett sighs, falling back onto the bed like Dan is single-handedly ruining his life. But, really—isn’t he? In this moment, at least?

Dan uses his free hand to pull his underwear down to where his pants are caught, helping them down with a nanosecond shimmy. He steps out of his them after slipping his shoes off, still holding his dick tightly. He bends to knee up onto the bed, looking down at Lovett from his upright position. 

Dan's so close, and Lovett can touch him now—freely touch. He starts at Dan's knees and travels upward, toward his thighs. He wants nothing more than to pay all of his attention to Dan's cock, but he can't keep his eyes away from Dan's face. "What if we did this. Before," Lovett asks, cocking his head. "When we were still in the White House. What if..."

"I was your superior," Dan murmurs, low. 

Lovett gives a small snort. "Like that doesn't do it for you." It had certainly done it for him. God, how many times had Lovett thought of Dan bending him over a desk in the West Wing over the years?

Now, Dan looms over Lovett, locking his elbow to stay high above him so he can see all of Lovett as he continues to stroke himself. "But you're _my_ boss now."

Lovett hopes his breathing sounds even because he's sure it's not, but he needs to be in control this time. “Hot. What else about me gets you hard?”

"How I've imagined this, but never like this," Dan says, lowering himself to get closer until he's almost settled on top of Lovett. Their lips brush slightly as he confesses: "I wanna fuck you, but I'm not gonna last."

Lovett’s hands slide up Dan’s stomach, and Dan sucks in a shuddering breath. Lovett’s voice is a little softer when he asks, leaning up to nip along Dan’s jaw, “How have you imagined this? Please, give me _something_.”

Dan leans down and kisses Lovett in answer, which is both endlessly frustrating and so hot it makes him feel lightheaded. 

Lovett lets the kiss continue because he's only human, but he aggressively reaches for Dan's cock, trying to knock Dan’s hand away.

Dan breaks the kiss and looks down at him.

Lovett juts out his chin. "If you're not gonna fuck me, at least let me _do something._ "

Dan chuckles and tucks his face into Lovett’s neck for a moment and Lovett feels hot all over as Dan places an open-mouthed kiss to his throat. This whole getting-dizzy-by-being-kissed thing keeps coming out of nowhere and he can’t quite pinpoint what it is. Dan’s good, but not the best Lovett’s had. Maybe it’s how... sincere? It is? Or how much Lovett can feel behind it? He’s not really sure, but he’s going with it, just like the rest of this Sexy Twilight Zone of a night.

Finally, Dan relinquishes hold on his dick, and says, “Be my guest.”

Lovett spits into his palm before reaching down and really _feeling_ the full length of Dan's cock. Dan groans as soon as Lovett’s fingers curl around him, and Lovett groans, too. It feels so good in his hand and he won’t fucking shut up about it. "You've been holding out on so much, but this is the one I'm furious about," Lovett huffs in his ear. "Next time you better fuck me, or I swear..."

Dan starts hissing curses as his hips speed up in time to Lovett’s movements.

Lovett slides his free hand up to cup the back of Dan’s neck, letting his fingertips press harder. "You can go faster," Lovett whispers, anchoring his arm better.

" _Fuck,_ " Dan mutters, his thrusts stuttering. Lovett squeezes Dan’s dick and kisses him again, deep but frantic; Dan’s _really_ not going to last much longer and Lovett's not sure what to think about it. He's never been with someone who's gotten so hot just from sucking him off before.

When Dan tries to pull away, Lovett rolls Dan's bottom lip between his teeth. Dan moans into Lovett’s mouth as he speeds up in an erratic burst of energy. When Lovett finally lets Dan’s lip go, he’s got precome on his fingers and he kisses what little skin of Dan’s he can reach, turning to get a good bit between his teeth and sucking around it.

With one last, rough thrust, Dan comes with a shout.

Lovett feels Dan's come stripe his hand, and he idly strokes the back of Dan's neck, gentling him through the aftershocks. Dan’s still carrying some tension in his body as he tries not to completely collapse onto Lovett, so he rolls them onto their sides in order to rest and catch their breath. Lovett presses his lips to Dan's once more as he slowly milks the rest of Dan's come out of him until he’s finished.

Lovett is so tired, he can barely see; he can only imagine how exhausted Dan must feel.

They’re quiet for a little while. Both of them just thinking, maybe. Or possibly bobbing half-in-and-half-out-of consciousness in the wake of it all. Everything seems soft around them, and Lovett doesn’t want the moment to end.

Dan sighs and Lovett opens his eyes, curious what he’s making of this moment. Dan’s eyes are still closed, his face slack, and he honestly looks about five minutes from being out entirely; Lovett wonders how long he should stay. He feels too tired to get up and leave, and the thought of going home feels… 

Dan opens his eyes and smiles faintly when he catches Lovett’s gaze, and starts to shift toward sitting up with a yawn. 

Lovett watches as Dan slides from the bed to stand, shuffling toward the bathroom. "Be right back." 

He sneaks off for a moment, leaving Lovett alone in a staring competition with the ceiling, starfished in the center of the bed. He listens as the sink comes on, still trying to catch up to the moment. Still trying to catch up to a fucking hour ago, shit. It feels futile like this, since his brain won't be back online in any real way until after he gets some sleep, so he tries to content himself with floating in high of it all.

But, fuck, does he have a lot to unpack tomorrow.

He's not trying not to get too existential or whatever, but like. He's still stuck on how all of this even happened. Tonight, Election Night 2018. But also like... at all. 

_Can_ you ever really know a person? If so, how long does it take? Because he's known Dan for a smooth decade and there was never any indication that he was anything other than straight, or at all interested in or attracted to him whatsoever. Or men, in general. What other hidden depths does Dan Pfeiffer have? Will Lovett be given another opportunity to discover those hidden depths? Does he even want that? 

It's all very hard to say, lying on his co-worker's hotel room bed after coming down his throat and jerking him off, still a little bit drunk. He lifts his hand and looks at it coated in come before wiping it off blindly on the sheets next to him. 

Very hard to say, indeed. 

The desk lamp in the corner of the room clicks off as Dan flips the switch, leaving only the bedside lamps on as he comes back from the bathroom.

When he's back in view, Lovett can see that his hair’s a little damp and his face looks like it’s been washed; Lovett wonders if he should do the same. He wonders again if maybe he should just go home.

"I think my brain is broken," Lovett murmurs, a little hollowly.

Dan huffs a laugh and fishes his phone out of his pants pocket to check it quickly before setting it down on the nightstand. "Tell me about it."

Lovett turns his head and looks over at him, blinking in his fog.

Dan looks back at him and gives a fond smile. "You're staying, right?"

Lovett’s stomach ties itself into a warm kind of knot. "What?"

"Tonight. You're staying?"

"Oh," Lovett says and looks down the length of his naked body, spread out on the bed. "I hadn't..." He looks back up at Dan. “Uh, is that okay?"

Dan's smile deepens. "Yeah. Cool."

Grinning, Lovett shakes his head. "'Cool'?" What a word to use at a time like this. How fucking ridiculous. 

Dan peels back his corner of the comforter and topsheet. "What? People still say 'cool.'"

"While Chillin' in Cedar Rapids?"

Getting Dan to actually laugh and not just chuckle has always been Lovett's goal when interacting with him. Dan had been known around the White House to be a bit of a workaholic asshole with a temper, but he still knew how to have a good time. It's just… there are very few things that makes him really _laugh_. It either has to be dry and witty and ironic and kind of acerbic, or you have to come in hot with a really great pun.

Dan bursts out in a laugh, now, at Lovett’s reference to Hillary’s infamous vine, but it's immediately cut short. "Too soon."

"It's been _three years,_ " Lovett counters, rolling over to his own side of the bed and peeling back the covers.

"It doesn't matter, it'll always be too soon." 

They both settle in beneath the blankets, not touching one another. After a moment, Dan rolls to the side and switches off his light; only Lovett’s remains on. Lovett can hear Dan turn his head on the pillow to look at him.

“Do you want to watch the returns, or…”

“No,” Lovett says quickly. At Dan’s brows lifting a bit, he clarifies, “I’m tired.” 

“Me too.” 

Lovett reaches up and clicks off his bedside light, and the room goes as dark as it can in the middle of Los Angeles. 

There's no _goodnight._ And in the quiet afterward, Lovett can hear their breathing slow and slow, until a soft snore starts up on Dan’s side of the bed.

The corner of Lovett's mouth twitches upward as he closes his eyes and listens until he, too, is pulled under.

***

The next morning, Lovett jerks awake at hearing the door slam shut, accompanied by a soft, whispered, “ _Shit._ ” 

He blinks rapidly, confused by his surroundings. A sprawling, otherwise-empty bed he's on the wrong side of. Large windows which frame the tall buildings of the city, slices of blue sky shining between them, too bright for Lovett’s eyes.

He groans a little, his whole body sore and his head feeling heavy when he lifts it. He looks around at the anonymous environs that can only belong to a hotel room, and the night comes rushing back.

_Dan caging him in with his body up on the roof, and in the elevator._

_The feeling of being weighed down by Dan's body covering his own entirely._

_Dan's hot breath on his neck, against his thighs._

_Dan's big, warm hands on his hips._

_Dan's mouth on his cock, teasing him and swallowing him down._

_Dan kissing him, lush and deep._

Dan pokes his head around the wall and smiles a little at seeing Lovett awake. “Hey,” he says, interrupting Lovett’s spiraling thoughts. “Good morning.” 

“Jesus,” Lovett mumbles, startled a little. "Yeah." It's slow going, but he eventually sits up, grunting a little as he tries to settle comfortably against the headboard. “Morning. Time’sit?”

“Quarter to 10.”

“Fuck.” He rubs his eyes with both hands and drags them down his face, yawning. He could easily sleep for another three hours. He can hear Dan step toward the bed. 

“I got you some coffee. And breakfast,” he offers quietly.

Lovett’s hands fall from his face and he can feel himself go warm at that; he eyes the plate and the cup in Dan’s hands a little incredulously. “You got me breakfast?”

Dan shrugs a single shoulder. “Well… sort of.”

Lovett lifts a single brow. “‘Sort of?’”

“Here,” Dan extends his arm and holds out the coffee to him. “And I know you like vanilla, so…” He reaches into his pocket and sets down about five vanilla creamers on the bedside table. “I got you these.”

Lovett can feel the beginnings of a grin curve the corners of his mouth as he looks at the small cluster of blue Coffee Mate creamer cups Dan stole for him. He’s certain there has to be a Starbucks within a mile radius of the hotel, but… this is… really fucking sweet. His chest tightens unexpectedly and he has no idea what to do with this moment. So he asks, “You said something about food?”

Dan winces a little and hands over a paper plate. On it, there are two slices of cantaloupe, a few sad-looking pieces of pineapple, and an iced Little Debbie’s honey bun that looks like it was made in the year 2000. 

Lovett now understands what that _Sort of_ meant as he takes the plate with his free hand and looks up at Dan blankly. “Why would you do this to me?”

Dan rolls his eyes, blushing a little. “Next time, just say ‘Thank you.’”

Lovett looks down at the plate again. “Honestly, I’m most offended by you thinking I like cantaloupe.”

Dan lets out a startled laugh and shoves both hands into the pockets of yesterday's pants. “I’ll have you know I almost had to fight someone for that, so you better enjoy it.”

“Oh, I would’ve loved to’ve seen that,” Lovett says, grinning and setting the plate between his legs. “Thanks, Pfeiffer,” he says after a moment. It’s soft, and sincere.

There’s a warmth behind those blue eyes, and Lovett feels something flutter inside himself as Dan says, “Sure. You’re welcome.” 

Lovett grabs the pile of creamers and is about to say, _So about last night…_ when Dan speaks first, leaning back against the wall.

“So, I have to check out in an hour and we were supposed to meet at the office by 10. I’m gonna shave and shower and then head over.”

Lovett nods and sips his coffee, which is nowhere near caffeinated enough, and says, “I’m about ten minutes away from getting a Lyft, I just need to drink this first.”

“You sure? I can drive you…”

“No, it's okay. You can do your thing, I can go back to my place to get ready and we'll see each other at HQ.”

“Sounds good,” Dan says without anymore input and makes with his thumb over his shoulder to ask, “Do you need the bathroom, then? I’m gonna shave.”

“Go for it,” Lovett replies, draining half the cup of coffee.

“Cool.” And Dan goes, shutting the door behind him. 

“‘Cool,’” Lovett echoes, shaking his head, smiling for real. 

After a moment, Lovett hears the faucet turn on and a Kendrick Lamar track get turned up.

Left alone, Lovett lets out a sigh as he reaches down to pick up a piece of cantaloupe and take an experimental bite. It's unsurprisingly bitter and watery and he sets it back down immediately. Well, he tried. And that absolves him from having to think anymore about Dan's kind gesture as he sets the plate on the nightstand and drains the rest of his coffee.

He looks around the room and the signs of chaos: Sheets askew, scattered clothes. He can feel the bite mark Dan left on his inner thigh starting to bruise. 

The air feels thick, filled with too many things best experienced alone, and not in the few moments he has before Dan comes back out of the bathroom. 

_Time to go._

He pulls the sheets back and gets out of bed, stretching out his spine before stepping around the room, picking up his clothes as he goes.

He’s not sure why he’s suddenly so shy, after last night, but his eyes skirt over to the bathroom door, trying to calculate if it’ll still be shut for the next twenty or so seconds so he can get dressed without risk of Dan seeing him naked in the light of day. He pulls everything on quickly, shimmying into his boxer-briefs, yanking on his jeans, and climbing into his sweater, trying not to remember how earnest Dan was when he said he wanted to see what Lovett looked like underneath it.

He smooths down his hair, combing it with the fingers of one hand as he reaches into his jeans pocket and pulls out his phone, which he hasn’t looked at since last night. 

52 text messages. 3 voicemails. 7 emails. 46 Slack notifications. And the latest push notification from the Washington Post, which mentions Beto's loss, and how the races for Abrams and Gillum haven't yet been called. Holy shit. 

Lovett jumps when Dan opens the door; he must’ve taken longer getting out of bed than he thought. 

Dan looks refreshed and clean after his shave. Even in his wrinkled clothes from last night, he looks good. Lovett suddenly imagines how much worse the room must've looked with Dan's stuff thrown around, too, and he swallows carefully. 

“Hey, I’m just… getting a Lyft," Lovett says, thumbing open the app so it's not a lie.

"Oh, great," Dan says, pulling his phone out, too. "I'll walk down with you."

Lovett feels himself starting to go red and he says, "No, it’s okay, you don't have to... I can find my own way home..."

And Dan lifts his head, a small smirk playing around his mouth. "I still have to let them know I'm checking out."

"Right," Lovett says, heat crawling up his neck. "Yeah. Right." 

He selects his home address from his recent destinations and his phone vibrates instantly. _Your Lyft will arrive in 10 minutes._ He holds up his phone. "Gotta go." 

“Okay.” Dan reaches out to open the door and follows Lovett out into the hall, letting it swing shut behind them. 

They stand quietly at the elevator, watching the digital numbers count down to their floor.

"Beto lost," Dan says after moment, turning his head to look at Lovett.

"I saw," Lovett murmurs, not looking at him, but keeping his eyes affixed to the elevator display. "Abrams and Gillum are still too close to call."

Dan hums in acknowledgement.

The elevator dings and the doors slide open. 

There's a small family already inside—a mother, father, and young daughter—who all move toward the panel of floor buttons as Lovett and Dan step into the cab. Lovett hopes it’s not entirely obvious that this is, essentially, an escorted walk of shame. 

Everyone is silent, even as they exit the elevator.

Lovett buries himself in his phone, deciding to bypass his notifications and pull up Twitter instead to see what’s happening. 

Suddenly, and without saying anything, Dan peels away from him, and Lovett’s head snaps up to see where he’s going. He catches Dan heading over to the front desk, not once looking back at Lovett. 

_Oh. So he wasn’t even gonna… oh. Okay._

Lovett pushes through the revolving doors and squints he steps into the bright of the mid-morning sun, ready to be home by himself with the unsettled thoughts and feelings crowding the inside of his rib cage. His throat is tight as he checks how far away his driver is and grits his teeth at the answer: 7 more minutes.

He shoves his phone into his pocket and pushes the sleeves of his sweater up before crossing his arms over his chest, tasting the acidic, watery remnants of the hotel coffee Dan got for him; he debates whether or not he can convince the Lyft driver to go through a Starbucks drive-thru.

The sidewalk is bustling and Lovett stands close to the building, off to the side of the doors.He watches the cars go by, but isn't focusing. He can’t make his mind focus on anything but Dan walking away from him. Not even saying _goodbye._

And then, a gentle hand on his bicep startles him. Lovett whips his head around to see Dan, his smile soft, but a little uncertain. Hesitant.

Lovett feels a little light-headed when he sees Dan. He _didn’t_ forget him. "I… " Lovett starts, not really sure what he wants to say. "I just figured I'd wait outside." 

They look at each other, and Lovett can feel something tangible pass between them wordlessly, but he can’t grab hold of what it is, exactly. He knows it’s there—something to decipher and pick-apart later. He just has to commit everything to memory now, while it’s still happening. 

“Last night was pretty incredible,” Dan says, finally.

The electricity humming inside Lovett’s skin could probably light up the Hollywood sign. But he’s really trying to play it cool. He bites the inside of his cheek and looks down, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.” 

“So, next time I’m in town—”

“Yeah?” Lovett interrupts too quickly, flashing too many of the cards in his hand.

“—we should have dinner,” Dan finishes with a hopeful smile. 

Lovett blinks at him, feeling overwhelmed. Excited. Impatient. Wanting more of everything _now._ He doesn’t want to wait anymore, now that he knows all of this. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time between last night and continuing to discover everything he can about what this _thing_ is between them. If the conditions which allowed it to bloom and grab hold of them only existed within a temporary, liminal space. Or if, maybe, it could exist outside of Election Night. Like maybe it’s something real, just waiting to be unearthed, and full of infinite potential. He wants to believe that it is. So he fists his hands in Dan’s shirt, pulling him closer, and leans up to kiss him.

Dan makes a surprised noise, but doesn’t hesitate in grabbing hold of Lovett by the hips and kissing back.

Lovett only pulls away because he needs to get oxygen to the brain. And when he does, he only pulls away enough to let out a breathless laugh, dizzy with the knowledge that this isn’t the last time they’re going to do this.

Dan smiles back at him, just as a car pulls up next to them and Lovett’s phone vibrates in his pocket. 

Lovett pulls away for real then, smoothing a hand across Dan’s chest as he goes. “You can make breakfast up to me next time, too.”

Dan looks at him, head tilting to the side. He nods once and slips his hands into his pockets, a look of pleasant surprise splashed across his face. “Okay, then.”

“Okay.” He turns and steps over to the Lyft, then says, over his shoulder as he pulls open the car door, “See you at the office.” 

He slips into the backseat and gives a small, “Hey,” when the driver greets him.

Before they pull away from the curb, Lovett can’t help but look out his window. What he sees is Dan looking back him, taking a slow step backward toward the entrance of the hotel; when Dan catches Lovett looking, he gives one last grin before heading inside.

Lovett shakes his head, cheeks sore from smiling and unsure how he’s going to keep himself from giving everything away the moment he sees Dan again.

**Author's Note:**

> [HC's "Chillin' in Cedar Rapids" Vine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbcc8x7j1Lg)
> 
>  
> 
>  **From[anatomical_heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anatomical_heart/pseuds/anatomical_heart):** Thank you, @joshlymanwalkandtalk, for your love and support always and for screaming with me for months about these two. You've taught me so much about writing in partnership, and I can't wait for what comes next.
> 
>  **From[joshlymanwalkandtalk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joshlymanwalkandtalk/pseuds/joshlymanwalkandtalk):** Thanks, as always, to my partner for having to hear about this stuff all the time, and to my amazing writing partner @anatomical_heart for being the best there is and always making me proud of my work. This is for the Dan Heads.


End file.
